


Certified

by CoconutRum



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Bottom Will Graham, Consensual Non-Consent, Deepthroating, Dubious Consent, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Fun, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, M/M, Medical Kink, Power Bottom, Power Dynamics, Power Exchange, Power Play, Switching, The Ladder Scene (Hannibal), Top Hannibal Lecter, Top Will Graham, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27761515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoconutRum/pseuds/CoconutRum
Summary: Will has to recertify for his FBI badge. Hannibal both distracts and assists with his ‘studies.’SO much SWITCHING in this fic, and I'm not sorry.Power bottoming murder husbands!!!!
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 109





	1. Distractions

Will straightened the badge on his belt, glancing at himself in the mirror.

His slacks were pressed, no buttons were missing on his shirt, his holster belt lay flat against his waist; silver cuffs, glinting. 

He would have to just do fuck all with his hair as (per usual), it stuck out every which way no matter how hard he tried to tame it. 

With a sigh of defeat, Will grabbed his training manual and went into the study; the smell of coffee permeating the air.

It was 8am. His recertification was at 3 o’clock; plenty of time to cram a bit more before he had to go into the office. 

Silvery clinking sounds and the smell of garlic and basil told him Hannibal was making breakfast, so he sank down into a chair to review more of his manual. 

His posture felt a bit rigid; his body tense, causing him to undo the top button of his collar, making a mental note to refasten it before his test. The bureau were sticklers for details. He hated these tests; they made him feel exposed, and vulnerable, like a lab rat. Returning to his studies, he honed in on a passage about fire-arm protocol. 

After what felt like barely 5 minutes, a broad hand clamped down on his shoulder, making him jump. Turning, he saw Hannibal, dressed in his striped burgundy pajama pants, and matching knit top; hair ruffled and askew; a plate in one hand. Graham glared daggers at Lecter’s hair; always perfectly tousled, barely falling into his eyes...like a fucking poster child for a Scandanavian skiing ad.

“Good morning,” the doctor gave Will’s shoulder a squeeze, kissing the top of his head before handing him breakfast. “How are you feeling?” He said, sitting opposite him. He crossed one lanky leg over the other, making his pant leg ride up his ankle like a (stupidly attractive) schoolboy. Will hadn’t realized how dry his mouth was until he tried to speak; as well as ignore the playful looking bed-headed man sitting across from him.

“I’m ok,” he said, trying to make himself sound more resolute than he actually was. “I’ve got a few hours before the exam, so I thought I’d do a little more cramming.” 

Finishing a mouthful of omelet and, quite satisfied with his own cooking skills, Hannibal set his plate aside and leaned forward in his chair, watching Will take a bite of toast and swig his coffee. 

The brunette was suddenly self conscious of being scrutinized over eating breakfast, but decided to ignore it; opening back up to a page of his book as he chewed.  
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a smirk, playing on the doctor’s lips. Taking the bait, Will looked up, a smug look on his face.

“What?...” he waited for a rise out of the taller man; he could feel a tension spreading between them and he felt his heart briefly skip. 

Hannibal didn’t answer, just cleared the dishes and went to tidy the kitchen. Will’s brain registered the calming sounds of running water, mingled with the soft taps and chimes of cutlery being washed. He forcefully exhaled, trying to steele his mind.

Sunlight poured in through the ceiling high windows, and the minutes seemed to slow.

Lost in his pages, Graham startled suddenly, as broad fingers curled over his shoulders again, softly kneading his muscles. He hadn’t even heard Hannibal come back into the room!

The doctor’s hands rubbed down the planes of the brunette’s chest, and began to fidget with the buttons of his shirt.

Will chuckled, and, crooking his neck awkwardly, gave one of the hands a soft kiss, keeping his eyes on his book.

Lecter leaned in, kissing the young man’s ear, massaging Graham’s scalp.  
He secretly loved the man’s dark, luxurious curls and took his time, letting the tips of his fingers wind, and pull and tug. His (remarkably classy, manicured) nails scraped through the tangled locks, created a maddening friction.

He watched Will’s body begin to go taught, fighting.

“You’re too tense,” he whispered, nipping the young man’s jaw, making sure his breath came out hot on the young man’s skin.

Will let his eyes flutter closed; suddenly flushed, before tightening the hold on his book.

“And you’re distracting...” he said breathily. 

Lecter smiled against his cheek; laving the shell of his ear.

“Well now, we can’t have our young officer....distracted now, can we?” He gave his curls a firm pull, before coming around to face him.

Will didn’t realize he was breathing through his mouth, or that his book was about to fall out of the one hand that was now merely grasping the cover.

He felt heat curling in his belly as he stared up into amber eyes.

“As a doctor, I do believe it is your job to look after my well being.” Will rebuked, “It wouldn’t be very professional of you to impinge on my study time now, would it?”  
His cock gave an enthusiastic bob at the direction this was taking.

Hannibal leaned down, and ran his thumb over the young man’s lips, cupping his chin.

“I didn’t realize imposing on an officer was a crime,” he purred, gently pulling down Graham’s bottom lip.

Will’s tongue darted out, tasting the salt on Lecter’s skin. He sucked the man’s thumb into his mouth, savoring it for a moment before giving it a playful bite; earning him a delightful hiss and jolt from the lovely doctor.

Regaining composure, Lecter backed away, chuckling, with his hands up in true ‘surrender’ posture. His loose pajama pants barely clung to his tapered waist, and his impressive length was far from hidden in the thin fabric.

The profiler let his book fall to the floor, his own dick suddenly half hard; his face flushed.

Damn the literature. Curse the studies. 

He stood slowly, and began to saunter towards his therapist; his badge catching the autumn sunlight.

“Doctor Lecter,” he kept his steps slow, controlled. “Do you admit to interference in upholding the law, and harassment of an officer?”

Hannibal beamed; seeing Will work himself up into a domineering mindset thrilled him, and made his cock positively ache. The man’s muscled, wiry body in uniform didn’t hurt either.

He came to a stop, his back nearly flush against the tall, fixed ladder of his multi-level library; hands still in the air, “Guilty until proven innocent, officer Graham.” 

Hearing the Lecter call him ‘Officer Graham’ made Will’s mind fumble for a moment (Goddamn shrink knowing his weak points!) but he pressed on, now face to face with the doctor; that blasted smirk was plastered to his defiant face.

“Doctor Lecter,” Will kept his hands at his sides, trying to maintain focus and not giggle or something equally as stupid. “As you don’t deny the crime for which you’ve been accused, it is also my presumption that you may be a threat to me and I may be required to take evasive action, should you not cooperate.” 

He could feel the heat surging between them.  
Hannibal’s chest rose and fell, his elegant collarbones teasingly visible beneath the V-neck.

“I promise, I intend you no harm, Officer Graham, and willingly submit to a search in order to demonstrate my...cooperation.” he jutted out his jaw, pulling himself to his full height. His cock now tenting his pants, rubbing deliciously against the folds. 

Ignoring the full body shiver he just experienced, Will swallowed, hard.

“I appreciate your honesty and full cooperation, doctor. Do I have your consent to perform a full body search, which does require…” his mouth was dry again, “extensive, physical contact?”

Lecter struggled for words, given his cock sucking the life out of his brain.

“I insist.”

The brunette could smell the man’s aftershave activating with his sweat, making his mouth water. He undid another button of his shirt as he stepped behind the taller man; taking in the magnificently pert ass, at his disposal.

“Spread your legs, Doctor Lecter.” 

Hannibal heartily obeyed; letting go a small sigh as his balls adjusted to having some slight breathing room now. 

Will started at the man’s shoulders; pressing into muscled deltoids, down triceps and forearms wrapped in rope-like veins. He paused, a hand on either side of Hannibal’s rib cage putting even, gradually increased pressure up and down his lengthy torso, stopping to give his hip bones an aggressive squeeze.

The older man flinched, but didn’t say anything, simply letting the search continue, uninterrupted. He adored the physical contact, drinking it in; somehow tickled at both how delicate and threatening Graham could make his movements. The anticipation and uncertainty made his cock twitch.

The officer groped his ass, kneading the flesh there, taking his time. He parted Lecter’s cheeks, rubbing the clothing into his skin, causing it to burn.

“You know it’s also a crime to be in possession of illegal substances for which you don’t have a prescription, right doctor?” he said, pulling upward on both glutes.

Hannibal bowed his head and let out a groan of pleasure, hair falling into his eyes, cheeks flushed.

Graham twisted his grip around the man’ calves, raking his nails up and down, earning a hiss before he stood, and came back around to face the doctor once again. 

“Hands behind your head, Doctor Lecter,” he said, curtly.  
Lecter complied, noting the higher pitch to Will’s voice, a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and the undeniable scent that was purely his own. 

Graham continued his search, pinching hard nipples through Hannibal’s shirt before gliding his hands down his torso and back up again beneath the clothing, caressing (ok, more like worshipping) his washboard abs. 

Hannibal tensed and trembled as the touches came at unexpected intervals and intensities; his mind constantly documenting his own reactions. He noted he was most sensitive on his sides, particularly the few inches just below his axilla, and those above the swell of his hip. 

He watched, cock twinging, as Graham sank to his knees. 

The sight alone, nearly undid him.

The brunette knelt, hands roving all over his lower body. His breath hitched as Will gripped his hips, pressing his thumbs painfully into the soft flesh on either side of his cock.

He felt his world spinning; he had to reestablish control; regain equilibrium. 

Biting back a moan, and bracing himself against the ladder, Hannibal ever so slowly lowered one arm, taking care to not draw attention to the motion.

The profiler within reach, he firmly snaked his fingers around the nape of Will’s neck, clenching down with an unrelentingly rough grip.

The young officer froze; his senses searching for trip wires. 

He could smell the musk of the taller man’s dick; heady and potent, and saw his pants dotted with dampness, turning the burgundy to a deep crimson at the fly.

The doctor gave an experimental squeeze to the scruff of Will’s neck.

Heat flashing through Graham’s body, followed by absolute and chilling stillness as he gazed up through dark lashes at the doctor, his lips slightly parted. The scent of sex hung in the air like a summer fog.

Hannibal nearly lost his breath at the magnificent sight at his feet. Steadying himself with a ladder rung in his other hand, he stared down at shell shocked eyes.

“Officer Graham, I do believe you’re having trouble completing your task.” He laced his fingers through chestnut curls, casually solidifying the hold on his prey.

Will’s mouth went bone dry. 

Hannibal took note of the young man’s blown pupils; panting breaths, and elevated body temperature, judging by the color in his face.

“As your doctor, if I am indeed responsible for your well being,” an impish smile crept across his wide mouth, “I’d say you were having difficulty focusing, and require some tests in order to....diagnose...the source of your distraction.”

The profiler gave an experimental bow of his head, testing Lecter’s hold on him; and was quite unable to gain any leverage. He grit his teeth, steadying his breath as he deeply inhaled the man’s scent.

“You wouldn’t be trying to put me at a disadvantage for my exam now, would you…’Doctor’?” He dug his nails into the older man’s thighs, holding eye contact. 

Amber eyes flared to life with sadistic glee.

“On the contrary, Officer,” he began to crane Will’s head back, exposing the fine, delicate and fragile musculature of his throat. “Given your upcoming exam, I think it best to put some of your studies to the test.”

Graham’s mind (and cock) were on fire. How the bloody hell had this been turned around?! He wasn’t entirely sure he cared; and all regard to the concern promptly flew into the void as he felt the doctor fumbling at the drawstring of his pajama bottoms.

With his own dick now blissfully free of its previous confines, Lecter gave himself a few languid strokes; his hand sticky with pearlescent beads of precum.

Graham mewled; his own pants now distractingly tight.

“And which tests do you recommend, Doctor Lecter?” he managed; his breaths labored, given the angle of his windpipe.

The doctor slowly brought Graham’s mouth to his length, pressing the tip to the man’s lips. Will’s breath on the heated flesh sent cool flickers to his core. He looked down at the officer; kneading his hair, soothingly.

Will fingers clenched into his therapist’s waist, his mind reeling.

“Officer Graham,” Hannibal slowly pulled the younger man’s mouth onto him, inhaling deeply as he sank to the hilt into hot, wet walls “I do believe we should start with a test of your body’s physical...reflexes.”

He practically growled as the head of his cock roughly pressed and slid against the back of Will’s throat.


	2. Cat and Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has to recertify for his FBI badge. Hannibal both distracts and assists with his ‘studies.’  
> SO much SWITCHING in this fic, and Im not sorry.  
> Power bottoming murder husbands!!!!

Graham felt tears prick his eyes as his body responded to the invasion. Holding down a cough, he forced himself to relax, savoring the sweet tinge of Hannibal’s dick gliding along his tongue. He savored the weight of it in his mouth, the salty beads painting his membranes; he hummed as the head hit home again. 

His therapist groaned at the vibrations; hips beginning to rock.

“Your control is impressive, officer Graham,” Hannibal grunted after a minute or two, trying for more of an upward angle, “But I wonder, how do you respond to a bit more...stimulus?” 

Will chanced a look up at the man towering over him. Sandy hair peppered Lecter’s chest, trailing beautifully down his trim waist, ending in a neatly trimmed patch now tickling Will’s nose.

Hannibal crooned as the profiler’s hands dug into his ass. The varied textures of the human mouth made for a spectacularly diverse array of sensations to the man’s sensitive flesh.  
Arching his back, he hissed, feeling his cock push its way deeper down the confines of Will’s slippery channel; warm walls constricting against his nerve endings; squeezing and pulsing around him.

Graham choked, sinuses burning, letting the root of his tongue depress, raising his soft palette; opening further to the sensuous intruder. He made a (seemingly out of place) mental note to check the knees of his pants before his exam.

“Ungh…” Hannibal slowed his strokes, taking his precious time, “High marks for adaptation in the field, officer,” he mewled, quickening his pace again.

Will felt the grip on his scalp loosen as the doctor’s body went into autopilot. He heard the strain in the man’s voice, and knew Hannibal would come shortly. 

With Lecter distractedly snapping his hips, Graham discreetly pocketed something from a nearby drawer, and slithered a hand between the man’s legs, taking hold of his balls. Slowly, he twisted and pulled; letting his thumbnail sensuously scrape along the underside of the pistoning shaft. 

He pressed his thumb upward, harder; now closing his fingers into a fist, bringing the sac upward; nails pinching.

The doctor’s body stuttered at the unexpected sting; slowing his thrusts, panting.

As the older man stilled, the officer curled back his lips, exposing his teeth. 

Lecter’s breath was shallow; the bite of Graham’s nails chafing just enough for him to not leave the integrity of his own fragile skin at the mercy of the younger man’s claws.   
Hannibal stared down at him; sweat shining on his chest. 

Will looked like a sadistic schoolgirl sucking on a popsicle; hair falling in his eyes, his mouth now in a wicked grin; teeth glinting.

The doctor felt his cock throb and ache; hips trembling.

Carefully, Will grazed his teeth from root to tip of Hannibal’s dick; stopping at the flare of its bulbous top. 

Hannibal’s nostrils flared, and his hand fisted anxiously in Graham’s curls.

The brunette flickered his tongue rapidly up and down the briney slit, and reached for something in his belt; all the while maintaining eye contact.

“Officer Graham,” Hannibal choked out, “I do believe you have me at a disadvantage…” the narrow point of Will’s tongue tapped and licked, incessantly; keeping him at an infuriating tipping point between the young man’s canines. He felt the wool cording of his shirt sticking to him; damp across his back. 

He saw Will’s right hand holding his police-baton; a long, smooth, ebony shaft; and placing it between his legs. He felt its round, sanded tip pressing hard between his cheeks, and the body of it threateningly pulling upward on his balls.

Whimpering, (which was much to Graham’s delight) he let go of Will’s hair, hands falling to his sides. 

With a deliciously wet slurp, Will let the doctor’s cock ‘pop’ from his mouth, keeping his nail hooked on the underside of the impressive length.

The doctor exhaled a (not quite intentional) sigh of relief….teeth having been removed from his cock. 

“Doctor Lecter,” the dark haired man gave the baton a twist against Hannibal’s puckered entrance, “are you aware that it is considered a felony to try and detain an officer of the law?” 

Hannibal wasn’t sure if he was more turned on by the threat to his ass, or Will taking over. He secretly loved the change of intonation in Graham’s voice when he was assertive. The sound was deeper; raspier, and dangerously quiet.

He bit his lip, feeling the billy-club pulled from his ass cheeks, sliding between his legs, as it was pressed upward on his sac and dick. The sensitive skin of his inner thighs caught on the dry, smooth surface, making him wince.

As Hannibal’s head fell back against the ladder; Will stood; tugging the baton from back to front, positioning it at an angle; holding the front of the man’s balls against the underside of his cock, both wedged at the apex of his crotch. 

He brought his body in close, pressing his chest to Lecter’s solid torso. He let the man breathe like that for a minute; keeping the baton moving back and forth, simply to remind him it was there. (As though he could forget.)

Will loved the power he held over Hannibal. It was almost a mark of pride; being able to overtake the mind of someone so dominant and assertive; both physically and mentally.   
His own cock bobbed at the headiness of being in control of this sort of a wild animal; an animal radiating with underlying threat and deadly skill.

Taking his time, Graham repositioned the baton. He let the doctor’s balls slip from its surface, to now swing freely; and positioned the stick perpendicular to the man’s cock. It formed a satisfying, crossed ‘T’ shape pressed to the underbelly, against the stark, blue vein. He slowly rolled it from root to flare, savoring the tremors now emulating from Hannibal’s lower abdomen. 

Watching the man come undone was doing shameful things to his psyche.

Hannibal was in agony. He just needed it to pinch the tip of his cock with just a fraction of more pressure.

Quite aware of the doctor’s begging mind, the profiler merely smirked, and continued to playfully refuse such luxuries; having a spectacular time of tearing his therapist apart. This was *his* design, now.

He leaned in, lips hovering maddeningly over Hannibal’s mouth, just out of reach.

“You,” Will tweaked a nipple. 

“Have the right…” He held his knee to the shaft; dragging the baton up then down again along his shin; now using both hands to undo his own belt once the top of his foot had met Hannibal’s balls. 

The doctor’s eyes fluttered; pleading for it to roll over the slit; to give him that last little nudge.

“To remain,” he rolled it upward with his lower leg; hovering threateningly on the glistening purpled head as he shucked down his own pants. The fabric whispered maddeningly against the doctor’s length.

Hannibal held his breath.

“Silent.”

Quite fluidly, and much to Hannibal’s surprise, Graham nimbly grabbed the baton, raised it and pressed it to the man’s throat; letting Hannibal’s cock fall and bob in distress.

Lecter’s dick became impossibly harder when Will, as though on cue, handed him a small bottle, smirking to himself. 

The young man gracefully stepped out of his pants, and hitched his own leg up on the ladder. He pressed their bodies flush, grinding their cocks together in a mess of friction and sweat.

Hannibal moaned. Taking the bottle, he slicked his shaft with quivering fingers; both thrilled and awkward, given his lack of mobility.

Graham holding him there sent a thrill through him; his mouth parched and body humming with want. He tried to focus on his immediate sensations. His hair stuck to his forehead; the young man’s breath smelling of garlic was still somehow mouthwatering; he took in just how tall the profiler was, his heart skipping at the underestimated strength.

Will crawled upward. Holding him in place with the baton, he straddled his therapist, using the ladder rungs for balance as he aligned himself. 

Curling inward, he kissed Hannibal’s temple.

“I expect your full…” he paused to take a breath; his legs beginning to burn pleasantly. “...Cooperation…” he sighed, kissing the other side of Lecter’s face.

Hannibal braced himself against the ladder.

The young profiler sank down onto the glossy shaft; relishing the burn and tingling sensation. With one leg up, he experimentally tested his leverage and dexterity, slowly raising and lowering himself. 

He twisted and clenched; hissed and mewled, adjusting to the doctor’s impressive girth.

Hannibal brought his hands to his lover’s ass, pulling at his cheeks. He honed in on the delicate tendons of Will’s leg, the constricted muscles of his abs, the tinge of pink across the man’s face.

“Mmmmm, officer Graham,” his voice was deep and curt, “I do hope you’re...hngg…” Will sped up his ministrations. Lecter bit his lip for a moment; luxuriating in the young, supple body enveloping him. “I hope you’re finding my...participation...satisfactory…” he panted.   
He moved his hands up, grasping the baton at either side of his neck, trying to keep himself still as his body began to convulse. 

He watched Will throw his own head back, clenching his jaw; strung out on ecstasy and need. His tight channel sent a euphoric smattering of sparks across Hannibal’s vision as the doctor came, cursing loudly. 

Graham rode him, incessantly, clamoring closer to release, his eyes shut in desperation.

As the young man’s body bounced on his now softening cock, Hannibal began to press himself against the ladder. With a burst of animalistic strength, he suddenly shoved the baton away, sending an off-balance Will, tripping to the middle of the room. 

Graham landed on the floor, legs splayed, hole gaping and leaking; wearing nothing but his shirt. Cock standing proudly, and painfully in the air; the man was at a complete loss for what had just happened.

He stared up at the ominous figure sauntering towards him; the scent of aftershave mingling with his sweat, and made a mad attempt to scramble into a standing position.  
But Lecter advanced, thrusting the baton firmly to Graham’s breastbone, pinning him in place.

Hannibal, still riding his wave of rapture, leered down at the helpless profiler, salivating.


	3. Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will has to recertify for his FBI badge. Hannibal both distracts and assists with his ‘studies.’  
> SO much SWITCHING in this fic, and I'm not sorry.  
> Power bottoming murder husbands!!!!

“Hannibal, I…” Will stammered. His thoughts clamoured for entryway; trying to figure out how to turn the tables once more.

His face went sultry as he slowly gripped the baton in both hands, teasingly twisting and stroking, staring up at his therapist. Having hooked Lecter’s attention, Will began to lick candy-stripes upward, with his tongue, leaving glistening trails on the inky surface.

The psychiatrist glared down at the wiry brunette.

“An officer should know better than to taunt his adversary,” his voice low as distant thunder, raising the hackles on Will’s neck.

Graham gripped the baton, slowly pulling it, and Hannibal downward.

“But you’re such an easy mark,” he whispered, a cheshire grin on his face.

The doctor didn’t give the man time to enjoy his jab; immediately counteracting Will’s previous action.

He tugged firmly on the stick, pulling the smaller man up, and hurled him towards the bookcases.

Graham landed with a satisfying *Umph,* at the foot of the ladder.

With cat like speed, Hannibal rushed behind him, heaved him into a standing position, and secured the man’s arms behind him around the tall legs of the wooden structure.

Graham writhed and wriggled, feeling Lecter’s hands roving over him; skin heated and pleasantly bruising.

Hannibal held his hands in place as he dragged Will’s discarded belt and pants towards them, and unclipped the cuffs from their loop. 

“Shhhhh…” he kissed Graham’s ear as he cuffed him, “I told you at breakfast,” he cupped one hand to Will’s throat, the other around his cock, “You’re too tense…”

The profiler felt the solid slats digging into his back; cool air teasing his cheeks as Hannibal moved behind him. 

Steel bit into his wrists as he tried to remember his training.   
‘What to do if held hostage.’ - ‘When criminals gain the upper hand.’ The cuffs snapped into place with a silvery ‘clink.’

Lecter gave Graham’s cock a firm twist and tug; sending electric current through his pelvis, making him buck. 

They never covered ‘this’ in training; Will stupidly thought to himself.  
He flew threw the corridors of his mind, searching for something useful, managing to land on:   
‘Distract and redirect.’

He stilled, breathing through his nose; Hannibal’s musk heavy in the air. He tried to ignore the trickle of sticky liquid dripping down his thighs. Heat curled between his hips.

“Dr. Lecter, I think…”

Hannibal’s body vibrated as he laughed, low and dark.

“You see, that’s your problem, darling,” Graham shuddered at that last word, “You think too much.” He stroked Will’s chest; ran his fingers through those curls he loved so much. Then, opening the man’s shirt, rubbed his index finger over a pebbled nipple.

Graham was quaking. All rational thought, long since annihilated.   
‘Way to lose your head in the heat of battle, Will,’ he inwardly chided himself.

Lecter kissed up his neck through the wooden beams, inhaling deeply.

“Officer Graham,” he positively beamed at the full body shiver that earned him, “As a medical professional, I surmise that you’re too...on edge...to complete your exam at the moment.”

Will whimpered, clenching his eyes shut.

“It would be unprofessional of me to allow a patient to perform in...less than peak condition.” His hand squeezed the head of Graham’s cock, trailing it half way down, before stilling again. 

The young officer was seeing red. He gave a pitiful nod.

The doctor rubbed between his shoulders, down his back, pinching his ass; earning him a yelp. He smirked, reveling in the officer’s plight.

“Do I have your consent…” he gave a rough, abrupt stroke to the leaking length in his hand, “to remedy the situation?”

The profiler was biting back tears.

“Hng...yes! Goddamn it, Hannibal, yes, please!” He nearly sobbed; all dignity gone.

The doctor began to glide his curled palm along the heated shaft, taking his time.

“Language, young man. Doesn’t do well to provoke your assailant now, does it?”

Will bit his lip, moaning; trying to shift his hips to gain just ‘that’ much more friction.

“That’s better,” Hannibal increased his pace, “Would be a shame if I’d have to gag you.”

The profiler bucked hard into the doctor’s palm at the visual; growling.

“Very good, Officer Graham.”

The tension was unbearable. Will twitched in a fit of sweat and delicious torture as he neared the edge. The cool metal on his wrists, a striking contrast to the burning in his chest.

“As officers are disciplined to follow orders, you are to wait until my command to come. Do you understand?” Hannibal lessened his hold; watching a near bedraggled Will give a pitiful consensual sound.

“Lovely.Hold for me, Will.” He rubbed his thumb over the slit, intermittently squeezing his long musicians fingers. “Three,”

Fingers twisted, rubbed and pumped with infuriating swiftness.

“Two.”

All movement ceased as Hannibal gripped the base of Will’s cock, cutting off all flow of fluid or movement.

Will’s body thrummed; blood whooshed in his ears as the world stopped turning.

“One.”

A last stroke of exhilarating friction sent his mind through vivid colors before fading to a haloed haze of light and shadow.

“Well done, Officer Graham.” 

The ringing in his ears began to fade, and Will registered Hannibal was carefully removing the cuffs from his wrists.

His shirt was stained with sweat; hair in complete disarray. (That wasn’t necessarily new.) His whole body felt as though it had been centrifuged, or like he was stepping off one of those spinning rides which sticks you to the wall. 

Feeling rather floaty, he made his way to a chair, picking up his slacks.   
He held them up and his heart sank, seeing the state of the knees. Flopping down, he took a moment to breathe. 

Hannibal approached him from behind, planting another kiss to the top of his head. 

“I got your second pair from the dry cleaners this morning,” he whispered.

Will whirled around to gawk at the taller man; still slightly dizzy.

The doctor handed him a glass of water, procuring a suit-cover dangling from a hanger from the front closet.

“As your doctor, it would also be unprofessional of me to let you take your exam, going out with a loaded gun.” 

He winked, and came round to sit opposite the flabbergasted profiler, raising a delicate glass of orange juice in mock toast.

“...Officer Graham.”


End file.
